


Temptress

by author203



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Abuse, Dark, Exes, F/M, Gritty, Heartbreak, Human Trafficking, I did no research, I made stuff up, Implied Sexual Content, Sisters, Violence, also don't be like 'the reader', author is in love with a figment of someone else's imagination, blue jacket i guess because mature and modern technology, bodyguard jigen, but just picture your favorite jigen when you read it, domestic abuse, domestic jigen, don't fact check it, hot tub Jigen, i know nothing about this, it is probably all wrong, it is sacred, jigen is my favorite, mature - Freeform, mostly Jigen / cameos and mentions of other characters, putting it in the tags so i don't put it in the notes, reader discretion advised, save it for marriage, seek not plot holes if plot holes you wish not to find, sniper jigen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29165853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author203/pseuds/author203
Summary: Jigen's ex returns and causes a lot of trouble for him.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Original Female Character(s), Jigen Daisuke/Reader, Jigen Daisuke/You
Kudos: 6





	Temptress

**Author's Note:**

> Reader discretion advised. Like seriously, I am advising discretion. 
> 
> This one is dark, gritty, mature, violent, with implied sexual content, reference to human trafficking, abuse, cursing, drinking, and probably more stuff I forgot to warn you about. 
> 
> It started with an idea about a phone call between Jigen and his ex, and then took on a life of its own. Longer than I thought it would be when I started, but happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**Temptress**

His phone rang in the night. Not so late that he wouldn't answer it, but late enough that no one should be calling. And only a couple of people had his number, and they were all here. Goemon in the other room, meditating probably, or sleeping more likely. Lupin and Fujiko playing house and laughing in the kitchen.

He let it ring a couple of times, just to discourage whoever was on the other end, before answering with a gruff, “Yeah?”

“Daisuke?”

He froze, and was silent.

“I'm in trouble,” she said.

“That so?” He was tempted to ask who it was, just to hurt her a little, but he knew. He would know her voice anywhere. Had heard it call his name – in the dark – in both a whisper and a shout. Had heard it promise things like _always_ and _forever_. Things he had been stupid enough, young enough, to believe in. Well, he was older and wiser now. He waited, didn't say anything.

“I didn't know who else to call.”

He was mute. He had never expected to see or hear from this woman ever again. He could only think of her as 'that woman.' If he thought her name his resolve might soften, and that was something he could not afford. Not again.

“Daisuke, please. I... I'm scared.”

“What kind of trouble? Police closing in trouble or mafia gunning for you trouble?”

“Oh, you know me,” she tried to laugh a little. “Why settle, when you can have it all?”

He sat up a little straighter. “What have you done?”

“Not important. Will you help?”

Why him? And why now? She had some nerve. After what had happened. After how they had parted ways. He was far too sober to be thinking of it now.

“Jigen, who's on the phone?” Fujiko called, gasping as Lupin nibbled her ear. She tried to push him away, giggling. The noise grated on Jigen's nerves, but it would give him an excuse to leave the small apartment with its thin walls.

“Nobody. It's nothing.”

The silence stretched until she cried into the receiver, “Daisuke!”

He knew better. He should just hang up and be done with it. But there was a tiny sliver of his shattered heart still intact and still branded with her name. “Where?”

“Where we met.”

“Fine.”

“Hurry.”

He found her in the mouth of an alleyway next to the bar where they had met what felt like a couple centuries ago.

“I thought maybe you'd changed your mind; weren't coming.”

Seeing her shifted something inside of him just a bit, whatever part of him had been unsettled on hearing her voice, but she hadn't made his breath catch. She couldn't do that to him anymore. He wouldn't let her do that to him anymore.

When she stepped into the streetlight's glow, he could see her face was bruised. It looked fresh. And he was suddenly filled with a burning rage the intensity of which he had only known two or three other times in his entire life. He hoped, however, that she hadn't noticed.

He put on his best poker face. “It took me a while,” he explained, “to shake the samurai tailing me.”

She brightened a bit. “Goemon? You still running with him? How is he?”

He frowned slightly. “He's recovered. He's over it.” _Over you_ , he added silently.

“I never meant to hurt him.”

Jigen scoffed. “Right.”

“Is Lupin all right?”

“Lupin has Fujiko.”

“Oh... Are you all right?”

“Never better.” Was that true? He didn't know. Didn't dwell on it.

She shivered a bit and he noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing her coat. Instead, she had it slung over her arms she held together in front of her.

“Why aren't you wearing that?” He pointed to her coat.

She shifted it, just a bit, so he could see the streetlight glint off the metal circling her wrists. “You can still pick a lock, can't you?”

“What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Trouble. I told you. You _can_ pick the lock?”

“Not here. Not in the dark.”

“Where can we go?”

He was firm. “I'm not taking you back –”

“I have a hotel room,” she blurted. She blushed a little, but thought he wouldn't see in the dark. She thought about the last time they had shared a hotel room. So long ago that seemed.

“Why didn't you just say?”

Her teeth were starting to chatter. “I thought it might send the wrong message. To meet you there first...”

He sighed, shrugged out of his overcoat. He hated being cold, but part of him hated seeing her that way even more. He slung it around her shoulders as he asked, “How far?”

“A few blocks.”

“Let's go.”

“Hold still, damn it.”

“I am,” she huffed.

They were both sitting on the bed, the worn out mattress sagging beneath them. He was trying to make use of the light from the bedside lamp. And there wasn't a lot of other furniture in the cheap room. She was sitting cross-legged, her arms before her. He was perched on the edge, one long leg bracing him, the other tucked underneath.

“Remember the last time I was in handcuffs?” she smiled.

“I try not to,” he answered bluntly. “And knowing you, I doubt it was the last time anyway.”

“It may have happened a few times since then.”

He didn't want to think about it, but since she had brought it up, it was all his mind would grasp onto. It had been a grand time, until Lupin had found them, Goemon right on his heels, and she had had a lot of explaining to do. To all three of them. He remembered that she hadn't even been embarrassed. Acted like it was completely normal to court three men simultaneously. Court was such an old fashioned word. Maybe Lupin was right. Maybe he _was_ getting old. Turning sentimental was the first sign.

It had been a while since he had had to pick a lock like this, and he was a little distracted by her nearness. She still wore that same perfume he hated. Not that it smelled bad or anything. He just had a lot of bad memories associated with it. Didn't help that it was the same one Fujiko favored.

She didn't like the silence so she tried to fill it with stories of the places she had been, things she had done. What she had been up to since they parted ways. She still hadn't told him yet why she had called.

He would nod, or grunt, or say, “Oh, yeah?” and “Really?” like he was listening, but he wasn't.

Lupin would have had the cuffs off by now. That was one more thing the thief was better at than him. He shook his head, kept at it.

“I've missed you,” she said finally.

“I'll bet.”

“No. Really. I have.” She looked away. Knew she shouldn't have said it. She was surprised he had come at all, and now she was afraid she might have just run him off.

“Finally,” he said as the lock tripped and one of the cuffs swung open.

“Thanks.” She rubbed her free wrist and then stretched her arms wide, thankful she was able to do so again.

He took her other hand, the one still imprisoned, and just held it for a moment remembering. Then he shook his head to clear it, turned her hand over so he could see the other lock.

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

“I don't know where to start.”

“Maybe at the beginning would be a good place.”

He was hoping this one would be easier since he had gotten the other one, but picking it was still seeming like a challenge.

“It's complicated.”

“Why don't you start with where these came from,” he said, gesturing at the cuffs.

“I thought I could trust someone.”

“Been there.”

“But I couldn't.”

“Know how that feels.”

“He was different. Or at least I thought so.”

“Let me guess. He was 'the only one in the world that made you feel like the only one in the world?'” She had the decency to blush, but didn't say anything, so he continued, “You know, we all compared notes, once we got done trying to kill each other. Played each and every one of us like a damn fiddle.”

“Don't act like you weren't happy we got together.”

“You made it hard not to be, but that's not the point. What was I even supposed to be to you? A rebound? How does that work when it's all happening at the same time? I was almost impressed you were able to pull it off for so long before any of us caught on. Now, I'm fine being a one-night-stand, done that before, but we always knew that's what it was, all it would be. Don't promise forever if you won't be around. If you're just playing games, we can have fun, but say so. Say it doesn't mean anything. That it didn't matter.”

“You're still mad.” It wasn't a question.

“You think?”

“I know you were with other women. Before. And I'm sure after too.”

“But not during. Not when I thought...”

“Look, it was a long time ago, can't we just move on?”

“You brought it up. And you still haven't told me why. Of all the people in the entire world you call me.”

“Actually, I need to speak to Koichi. Do you know how I can get hold of him?”

“Pops isn't the cavalry you think he is.”

“Jealous of him too, Daisuke? He's a good man with a big –”

“Don't want to hear it.”

“Heart! I was going to say heart. He's a good man with a big heart, and I need his help. Your mind is always in the gutter.”

He just frowned, kept working the lock. “So, the one you trusted. He was a cop?”

“On the take.”

“You sure know how to pick them.”

“I chose you, didn't I?”

“You choose everyone, so it doesn't really mean much.”

“That's a little uncalled for.”

“If the shoe fits... Now, tell me about him – this tarnished badge.”

“I found out something I wasn't supposed to know, and when I told him about it – thinking he could help, that we could make it right – I found out that he was in on it, part of it. Profiting from it, and –” her voice broke and she stopped.

He didn't say anything. He wouldn't acknowledge his need to draw her close like he used to, stroke her hair, tell her he was here now, and it would be all right, because whatever it was, they would face it together. He thrust that thought away from him, continued to concentrate on the task at hand.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand, cleared her throat, and continued, “It's human trafficking.”

He grimaced. He had stolen plenty of things in his time, but never people. Well, if he had stolen people it was never against their will. They had always begged deliverance from their circumstances or situation. Whenever he had been involved it was always more of a rescue than a kidnapping.

“My sister.” She started crying. She couldn't help it. “He used me to get to her. The mob's running the whole thing, and they're crossing borders, so I'm pretty sure Interpol could get involved...”

“There,” he said, as the lock opened at last. She rubbed her wrist.

He frowned as he listened. The more she told him, the less he liked it. He knew that mob boss. Not personally. He hadn't worked for him or anything. But the man had a reputation. Cunning and ruthless, with no regard for human life or dignity. Maybe calling in reinforcements wasn't such a bad idea.

She leaned in, he thought maybe for a kiss, but he stood up, turned his back, went to the door. He might be being a little paranoid, but he thought he had heard something.

“What is it?”

But it was nothing and he said so.

She yawned, exhausted.

He noticed, of course. “When was the last time you slept? Ate?”

“Not hungry. And it's been a while. I've been afraid to close my eyes for too long,” she admitted. She grabbed a pillow and curled up on her side, looking vulnerable, and – and he hated that he thought this – inviting. “Would you –”

“I'm not snuggling with you,” he cut her off abruptly. “There's nothing down that road.”

“Keep watch. I was going to say, would you keep watch? Just for a little while. I'm so tired.”

There was a chair close to the bedside, and he sat down. “Sure. You can rest. I'll be here.”

“Thank you, Daisuke.” She put out her hand, and he took it by habit, before he even realized he had done so. “I always felt safe with you around.”

She closed her eyes. He ran a calloused thumb over her knuckles absentmindedly as he watched her sleep.

He smirked a little. She didn't look quite as dangerous when she was asleep. But his Magnum didn't look as dangerous on a table as it did in his hand. He'd have to be careful. He already knew what could happen. And he wasn't sure he could survive that happening again.

“What do you mean you don't know where he went?” Lupin paced the small living room. It was mid-morning, heading on toward lunch time, and no one had seen or heard from Jigen since he had slammed the door the evening before after getting that mysterious late night call.

“He did not wish to be followed,” Goemon said, as if that explained everything.

“He gets a call and disappears in the middle of the night, here, in this city, where he used to be one of the mafia's top dogs. He could be anywhere. He could be in trouble. He could be hurt. He might even be –”

The door opened. Jigen had returned. Alive and well and in one piece, even if he did look a little rattled. “He could just be hungry,” the gunman said.

Everyone stared at him. “Where have you been?” Lupin demanded. Not that Jigen wasn't grown and couldn't look after himself. Go where he pleased without anyone's permission. Lupin sounded angry, but he wasn't. Just worried. This was not a city they came to often, with good reason to stay away, and Lupin just wanted to know where to start looking should any of his crew go missing.

“It's more like, who I've been with.” She was behind him, and he stepped aside so the others could see.

Lupin brightened immediately, said her name loudly, smiling his welcome. Goemon blushed and looked away, silent. Fujiko, from her spot on the couch, just nodded a silent greeting. There was a mutual respect between the two of them.

“Come in, come in,” Lupin said, circling an arm around her shoulders. “What brings this pleasant surprise?”

“This isn't a social call,” she answered, as she took his hand and removed his arm from her shoulders. “Please. I need help.”

“What is it?” Goemon said, clutching his sword, sounding concerned.

Jigen left them there, went to the kitchen. Took off his overcoat, then his suit coat, rolled up his sleeves, found his apron. He could hear her in the other room explaining, telling them what had happened, asking them what they could do – if anything – to fix it. Lupin was the world's greatest thief. He could certainly steal back a few stolen people, couldn't he?

“Sounds like a truce with Pops is in order,” Lupin put in, after hearing her story. “He'll be at the museum tonight. We can talk to him then.”

“Let's eat,” Jigen called from the kitchen.

“My favorite,” she told him.

“Is it?” Like he hadn't known that. Hadn't made it on purpose.

She sat next to him during the meal, but Jigen tried hard not to notice. He tried especially hard to not notice her hand on his knee under the table. Goemon wasn't faring much better and hardly spoke at all. He didn't eat much either.

“I don't know where they hold them, before they move them, but I know they are going to be moving them soon. I heard talk about a shipment. Merchandise they called it. They are people! Real people. With hopes and dreams and the right to determine their own destiny. Not be bartered and sold like... like... like cattle.” She was so angry it was hard for her to find words. And words were the one thing she was good at. Well, words, and another thing.

“Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything that might help Pops?” Lupin had carried most of the conversation.

Lupin had never been one to hold a grudge, particularly against someone like her. And he always dove head first into every relationship with an easy come, easy go attitude. Jigen almost envied him that, his carefree mentality. Jigen, and Goemon too for that matter, were both more reserved, much more careful with their affections. Hadn't done them the slightest bit of good when it came to her.

“He offered me cut, when I found out. Like it was something I should be grateful for. A piece of their corrupt empire...”

“So take it,” Jigen said suddenly.

Everyone stared at him, silent, forks or chopsticks, suspended between mouths and plates.

“Not like that,” he said, pushing his hat brim up slightly. “Not for real. Just tell him what he wants to hear, until he tells you what we need to know.” After a moment, he added, “You're good at that.”

They were all quiet, but that didn't stop Jigen from eating.

“You know,” Lupin admitted, “It's not a bad idea. Could you handle it? The undercover bit?”

She wanted to laugh at him. Could she handle it? “Not only will I win a Pulitzer once all this is said and done, I'll get an Oscar too.”

“You investigative reporters,” Lupin laughed. “You're a tough lot.”

“Take Fujiko with you,” Jigen suggested.

Lupin made a face.

“What?” Fujiko asked. She didn't like where this was going.

“As a sort of peace offering,” Jigen explained. “Look, you won't be welcomed back with open arms just because. You'll need to prove your worth and loyalty to them.” He got a far away look for a moment before he came back to himself, found everyone staring at him. “Trust me. I know how they think.”

“It could work,” she said. “He might be a little suspicious, me changing my tune so suddenly.”

“Just tell him you've thought about it, want to be on the winning side. Stroke his ego,” Jigen said.

“Stroke some other things too,” Fujiko laughed. “Men are so easily manipulated.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Such simple creatures. They can't help it that they have two brains and only enough blood to run one at a time.”

The three men at the table frowned at her and Fujiko.

Despite everything that had happened, and everything she was about to face, she started to laugh. Jigen had missed hearing her laugh, and chuckled a bit in spite of himself.

“It's a good plan,” Lupin agreed. “But let's talk to Pops first, before we send you into the lion's den. He'll be waiting for us tonight.”

The conversation turned to other things, and as Jigen washed the dishes he heard her tell Goemon that she missed him too.

“Don't fall for that,” he warned. “She said the very same thing to me just a little while ago.”

“Both statements are true,” she insisted.

“But what about me?” Lupin wanted to know. “Didn't you miss me too?”

“Of course,” she smiled. She _had_ missed _all_ of them, and wished it could have been different. It was probably for the best they had parted ways, but she was thankful she knew them now and glad they were willing to help.

She had to save them. Not only her sister. But all of them. Even the ones who were strangers to her. She had to put a stop to it. Take down the law enforcement and politicians and celebrities profiting from the degradation and exploitation of their fellow humans. She seethed every time she thought of it.

“Keep frowning like that, it'll leave wrinkles,” Fujiko cautioned.

“I just keep thinking about it. How awful it is. What it must be like.”

“We all know the reality of what we're dealing with, but you can't let him see it bothers you,” Jigen said, as he turned a page in his newspaper. “If they sense the slightest hesitation or think you aren't one-hundred percent behind them, it will end badly for everyone involved. They might have you watch things or even do things – are you going to be able to handle that? If you can't, that's fine, there's no shame; better to say so now before you're in too deep and get yourself killed.”

The more Jigen thought about this idea the less he liked it. Was starting to regret even mentioning it. But it had to be stopped. And it looked like it was going to be up to her to stop it.

“To save my sister and the others I can do whatever it takes.”

“You sure?” Lupin asked.

“What. Ever. It. Takes.”

“Look sharp, men. According to his calling card, Lupin should be here any minute.”

Inspector Zenigata was determined that this time – yes, for sure this time – he would capture the world's greatest thief. His phone buzzed, and when he saw why he frowned at it. He was still half-surprised Lupin had gotten his number. Mostly, he just sent **you can't catch me** taunts all hours of the day and night. But once in a while, Lupin would slip up and leave a landmark, a church spire or a mountain peak, in the background of his selfies, leading the inspector right to his current location. Zenigata hadn't blocked him yet because he hoped to be able to use Lupin's arrogance and carelessness against him.

**Meet us on the roof**

_Probably a trap,_ he thought.

 **Not a trap** , his phone buzzed again just as he thought the words. Then three times more in rapid succession.

 **Bigger Fish**

**Need Help**

**Old Friend Here**

Zenigata was intrigued, but wary. “Keep an eye on things here. I'm going to check the roof.”

“Yes, sir.”

What kind of game was Lupin playing now? Didn't he want the artifact any more?

The roof was dark, no security lights up here, and quiet. He made a mental note to have more men watching points of entry like this in the future. The budget cuts had spread them a little thin, and he had had everyone closer to Lupin's target.

They were all there waiting for him. Lupin, Fujiko, Goemon, and Jigen.

“How did you lot even get up here? And what's this talk about bigger fish? Who's bigger than you Lupin?”

“What, Pops? Not even a 'hello' or a 'how are you'?”

He just stared at them, wondering what exactly he had just walked into.

“And don't you want to meet our old friend first?” Lupin teased.

“Who?”

Jigen and Goemon stepped aside, and she came forward smiling up at him. “Koichi.”

Even in the darkness, there was a enough moonlight to make things out, they could all see the inspector's face turn about the same shade as one of Lupin's jackets, and they all thought the old man would have a stroke right there in front of them. But he just coughed and blinked a couple times, before saying her name, and then a quiet, “Hello. How have you been? I often read your stories, when I have time to sit with a newspaper...”

“I'm flattered... I've missed you,” she began.

Jigen cut her off. “Don't start that. There's no time.” And then to Pops, “Don't believe a word of it. She told me the same thing.”

“Me as well,” Goemon added, gently.

“Well, of course, she told me,” Lupin said grinning, almost triumphantly. “I was her favorite.”

Jigen grunted, said, “You can all argue about that later. Tell Pops why we're here.”

“To steal the –” the Interpol agent assumed.

“No,” she told him. Then she explained why she was there. She told him everything she knew in as few words as possible. She managed to get through the whole story without crying this time. She was proud of that accomplishment.

When she was finally done, Zenigata sighed. “I suspected something was happening soon. Based on what our informants told us. Before they went missing, that is.”

“They're probably dead,” Jigen assured him.

The inspector frowned, but nodded. He shivered a bit, pulled his trench coat a little tighter around him. “I was afraid they might be. We lost contact a while ago...”

“They don't even need proof,” Jigen said. “If they hear even a whisper that someone might be palling around with the law – well, you know what happens.”

“Yes. I've seen it before.” He had seen plenty of crime scenes in his career. This line of work was not for faint of heart.

She shuddered, and thought again that maybe she couldn't do this. It was too dangerous. But who else was there? No one. It was up to her to stop this horror, and rescue the people that needed rescuing.

“Find out when and where and we can take care of the rest,” Pops promised her.

“I can handle it,” she told them, all of them, but she was looking at Jigen when she said it. He didn't answer, but she saw his mouth stretch into a thin line.

“Well,” Lupin said, taking charge, “We're going to go. And we were never here. We'll play tag some other time, Pops.”

“Soon,” the inspector answered. “And next time, I'll win.”

“Oh, sure, Pops. Next time, for sure.”

He could hear them, laughing as they retreated. Quite a serious situation. He sure didn't feel like laughing. This night had not gone how he expected at all. He had never thought he'd see her again. What a nice surprise. But such wretched circumstances. He took off his hat, ran a hand through his close cropped hair, before rubbing his neck tiredly.

He didn't like this case or that she was involved. Not that he hadn't dealt with this sort of thing before. This sort of thing and worse. If there was anything worse. Maybe he was getting too old for all this. Maybe it was time to start thinking about retiring...

“Inspector?” Yata's voice behind him. “Where have you been? Lupin hasn't yet made his appearance and it is well past time.”

“Oh, he's already come and gone,” Zenigata answered wearily.

“What?”

“Call it off. Send everyone home. Let's get some coffee and I'll fill you in.” _On most of it,_ he thought. Yata didn't need to know everything.

“Oh, I haven't seen her in... I'd say it's been a few years at least,” Yata said before taking a sip of coffee.

“You know her too?” Somehow, the inspector was not surprised.

“More than just know her,” Yata admitted before blushing. “We were both young and –” Zenigata held up a hand. He did not need details.

In spite of himself, the inspector chuckled a little. It was sort of nice – in an odd way – to know that some things never changed. He thought maybe by now she would have settled down a bit, but it sounded like she was as wild as ever. “We need to be ready to move as soon as we get the word.”

“I'll start the paperwork.”

The streetlights periodically lit up the interior of the little yellow car. They were both silent, didn't have much to say to each other. Lupin was slightly miffed she asked Jigen to drive her to the police station. He had pouted a little as he handed over the car keys, but he got over it when Fujiko showed up unexpectedly.

Jigen kept both hands on the wheel, and his gaze on the road, but every now and again he would glance at her from the corner of his eye.

The bruise on her face looked a little better, it had been a day or two, but his gut still constricted whenever he laid eyes on it.

“It's not too late,” he said. “To back out. There are plenty of undercover officers, with training for this sort of thing.”

“There's no time,” she barely whispered. And he knew she was right. It would take too long for someone else starting from scratch to ingratiate themselves enough to be trusted with the information they needed. She was right, but damn it, he didn't have to be happy about it.

They were close. It wouldn't be long now, and he was half afraid he'd never see her again. Quite the opposite of how he felt just a little while before. Afraid that she would turn up out of the blue and cause trouble. Which she had. He could be right about things once in a while too.

He parked the car a couple blocks down from the station, just sat there not saying anything for a while.

He pulled out a cigarette, held it between his teeth as he lit it. She reached over, plucked it from his lips, took a long drag.

He let her keep that one, and lit another for himself.

“You ready?” he asked after a while.

“I'm scared,” she admitted.

“That's ok.”

“It is?”

“You wouldn't be sane if you weren't.”

“How am I going to do this?”

“One step at a time. You've been in tight spots before.”

She stubbed out her smoke. “But it was always just me on the line before. I'm not scared for me, but if I mess this up a lot of people could get hurt. Or worse.” She paused. “You might get hurt.”

“I'll be fine,” he assured her. “Just get in, learn the location, get out.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Simple and easy are two different things.”

“This is true.” She leaned over, grabbed his tie, pulled him close, kissed him hard. He hadn't expected it; was sort of stunned by it, could feel the heat rising in his face, but he hoped between the dark and the shadow from his hat she couldn't tell. “For luck,” she said as she opened the car door.

“Hey,” he called her back.

“Yeah?”

He looked serious, but all he said was, “Be careful.”

“I will.” She closed the car door, walked the rest of the way.

They had timed it right.

Jigen saw a man come out of the front doors of the station, turn to look at her when she called his name.

He pulled a scope from the glove box. It wasn't attached to anything, which was probably for the best. “Chuck?” Jigen said to himself. “Thought you'd gone straight.” This was the one who had caused that bruise. The man was lucky they needed him alive. He was safe until they found out what they needed to know. “Still beating on those smaller and weaker I see.”

He was very fortunate there was no firepower attached to Jigen's cross-hairs. There might be opportunity for that later, he consoled himself. Hopefully.

Jigen watched her kiss Chuck's cheek, and then he touched her face, the mark he had left, before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Jigen's grip on the scope tightened a bit, but he didn't notice. He watched them get into a car and drive off.

He followed at a distance, keeping traffic between them when there was any.

He followed them to a huge sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city, and turned his head as he drove past to glimpse a three-story mansion on the hill up from the road.

“That's too much house for a cop's salary, Chuck,” he mumbled. He made a mental note of where they had gone, and would have Ami look up the address, floor plan, who owned the place, anything that might prove useful later on.

It was only when his tooth started to ache that realized his jaw had been clamped just about as tight as his grip on the steering wheel. Things were in motion now. Nothing he could do but keep watch and be ready.

But ready for what, exactly, he didn't know.

“Fujiko's been abducted,” Lupin informed them a couple days later.

“She put up a fight?” Jigen asked from his spot sprawled on the sofa.

“You know it,” Lupin grinned. “That one goon – it'll be a while before he can walk straight again.”

“Good,” Goemon said, as he polished his sword. “They deserve far worse.”

“It had to look real,” Jigen reminded them. “If she went quietly, saying 'yes, please kidnap me' they would know something was up.”

“Her beautiful face,” Lupin mourned.

“It'll heal,” the gunman said, matter-of-factly. But he wasn't thinking of Fujiko's face then though, but another perfectly sculpted face that had been battered by the brutality that exists in this world. “Anyone heard anything? What does Pops say?”

“Heard nothing yet, but it's still early. They just got Fujiko less than an hour ago. I put a tracer in her earring. I hope they let her keep them,” Lupin said, looking doubtful.

Goemon shared his wisdom, saying, “Patience is a virtue.”

“Not one of mine,” the thief answered.

Jigen sat up, laughed a little. “You have virtue?”

“Plenty. Cunning, stealth, ingenuity –”

“Arrogance,” Goemon cut him off.

“Lust,” Jigen added.

“So cockiness?” Lupin chuckled. “Maybe they are more like vices,” he said as he opened a bottle of wine. “Pops is on stand-by, things are going the way we want, and there's nothing to do now but wait for the word.”

Lupin handed Jigen a glass, and the three of them were quiet for a moment before Goemon said, “I hope they are ok...”

“They'll be fine,” Jigen encouraged him, but didn't know if he was trying to convince the samurai or himself.

It had been a few days more and still no word. No call, no text, no postcard or telegram or carrier pigeon or even smoke signal.

Lupin had traced Fujiko's earring to a dumpster downtown, close to the place where she had been taken. They hadn't let her keep them.

Ami hadn't been able to find any chatter online about the operation. Nothing from the suppliers or the buyers. And they thought maybe it was done old school in person, and on paper, so as to not be traced by people like her.

Goemon sat quietly, mentally preparing himself to do whatever he would be called upon to do.

Pops kept in touch with Lupin through text, and he and Yata waited, drank coffee, smoked. Tried to think about the other cases they had, but kept coming back to this one. The waiting, the not knowing. That was the hardest part, the inspector decided. But then thought no, probably not. The aftermath, the clean up... that would be harder.

Jigen kept to himself. He staked out the house she had disappeared into over a week before. He had followed Chuck around while the cop made his rounds, watched him make traffic stops, go for donuts. Things any honorable cop would do. It was boring almost. Like following Pops around. He never led Jigen anywhere useful. Never talked to anyone Jigen recognized. Never gave him any sort of lead.

Jigen wore a rut in the carpet with his pacing. Lupin kept telling him to relax, sit down, be still. Goemon asked him politely if he would mind terribly chain smoking out-of-doors.

Antsy and fed up, he put on his hat. “Going out.”

Lupin studied his face. “Don't do anything stupid.”

“You're one to talk,” he grumbled as he closed the door to the hideout hard behind him.

Goemon and Lupin looked at each other for a moment before the thief shrugged.

“Should I...” Goemon asked. _Follow him_ , went unspoken.

Lupin shook his head. “Just give him some time. It's a lot to take in, her showing up without warning and now all of this.”

“He appears quite agitated.”

“What was your first clue? But there's nothing we can do. He's the only one that can deal with what goes on inside his head. He took it a lot harder than either of us.”

“Why was that?”

“Oh, she was _the one_. He was going to give up this life for her. Bought a ring and everything.”

Goemon was surprised. “I had not known.”

“You know how he is. He wouldn't want you to know. Don't say anything about it.” Lupin paused, then asked, “So, what was your favorite thing about her?”

Goemon turned the same shade as Fujiko's favorite nail polish.

Jigen had left the hideout in the early afternoon, walked around the city for a bit, gotten something to eat, passed some time in a bar – not the one where they had met.

It was dark now. He went to where he had left the Fiat. Lupin hadn't asked for the keys back yet, and he still had them. He got in, and knew immediately where he would go.

It was reckless and stupid and could possibly tip their hand and ruin everything, but it had been too long. Too many days of nothing but silence and he had to know.

He just had to know she was all right.

He drove to where he had last seen her, parked about a half-mile away at a scenic overlook, and started walking. Left his overcoat in the car, and immediately regretted it, but didn't want it to slow him down.

He checked his Magnum, moonlight glinting off the gunmetal, but of course it was loaded and ready. As always.

Ami had shown them the layout, the floor plans, the security measures. There was a blind spot in the surveillance cameras where he could slip over the fence. And a trellis leading up to a balcony he had seen in the satellite photos. Amazing the technology nowadays. Can read a license plate from space, but security camera footage still looked like the Patterson bigfoot film – grainy and undecipherable.

Jigen pushed his hat back a bit as he started to climb, careful to watch for thorns. If the roses had been blooming – it was too early for that – he might have plucked one, tucked in the band of his hat for later, just in case. He was sort of grateful that wasn't an option.

This was some kind of Shakespeare-level mess, he thought, climbing a trellis, in the starlight, to reach a balcony, in hopes of talking to a woman. Very Romeo and Juliet. He hoped this story would end better than that one.

The double doors weren't locked, which surprised him, but he wasn't about to question his luck. He was in some sort of library. This was the second floor. The place was enormous. She could be anywhere. If she was here at all. There was a lot of house to search, and she might not even be here. But this was the last place he had seen her, so here is where he would start.

It was quiet. Dark, but still early enough. He didn't think folks would be sleeping. There didn't seem to be anyone around. He crept into the hallway, drew his gun, found the stairs, climbed them slowly. Winced when a floorboard at the top shrieked.

“That you?” he heard her voice, went toward it.

She was in a bedroom, giant and luxurious like the rest of the house.

“Jigen?” Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

“What's this 'Jigen' nonsense?” he said, holstering his weapon. “What happened to 'Daisuke, I'm in trouble,' 'Help me, Daisuke,' 'Please, Daisuke'?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

He looked her over. She seemed to be in one piece. Alive anyway. She was wearing a shimmery, silky looking night gown, too short, maybe a size too small, lace around the hem, one strap sliding down her shoulder. It was pink, and he remembered that as a color she hated. Her hair was loose and unkempt, and her cheeks flushed. He did not like what that implied, but didn't dwell on it.

The bruise looked better, almost gone now, just a shadow of what it had been. But she had a new mark on that bare shoulder, a bite. And it looked bad. Tender, painful, ugly.

“He did this to you? I'll kill him.”

“Please, you have to go. They can't find you here.”

“We hadn't heard anything. I was...” He stopped, cleared his throat. He was going to say worried, but what good would it do?

“He took my phone.”

“Why?”

“I gave it to him.”

“What?”

“He asked for it. I had to. If I hadn't, it would look weird. He would want to know what I was hiding, and I... I have to play the part. It's the whole reason I'm here.”

“What have you learned?” She was right. He shouldn't be here. But he was now, and he was going to make the most of the opportunity. The sooner they could put this thing to bed, the better. _Poor choice of words_ , he thought grimly.

“Plenty.”

He could see the tears starting to well up, her face crumpling, and he laid a hand on her cheek, brushed one away when it broke free. “Don't start. He'll know.” He dropped his hand, shoved it in a pocket.

She nodded. “You were right. About everything. I've seen things. I've... I've done things.” Things she would never talk about. Not to him. Not even to a therapist. Some experiences had to be carried alone. She would not burden another with such knowledge. Sharing with them the things she had born witness to – no, she would shield others from such grief.

He wanted to wrap her in his arms, press her face to his chest, let her cry it out. But there was no time, and, although he would never admit it, he was afraid if he did that he would never let go.

“Was it worth it?”

She wiped her eyes, straightened her spine. “It will be.”

“What do you know?”

“The fifteenth. They're shipping them out on the fifteenth.”

“No moon that night.”

“Yeah. And they don't keep them together. They only bring them together when they are ready to move. They have – they called them stables, like they're animals – scattered around, I don't know where. Warehouses, condemned buildings, some underground places. Easier to control them when there aren't so many in one place. He told me how they do it. A few days without water. A few more without food. Anyone with any fight left, gets drugged into passivity. And then...” She stopped.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“Then they 'break them in.'” She shuddered. “He said it was like training a dog. Enough negative reinforcement and they get the idea. It's horrific. He joked about quality control, sampling the merchandise. He's such a heartless bastard, and I truly don't know what I ever saw in him.”

“What else?”

“There are a chosen few that get separated, taken elsewhere. Ones they think will bring a higher price or they just want to keep. They stay here.”

“In town?”

“In this house. But mostly on the ground floor, some in the basement... It's a henchman's birthday or he shoots a cop or something and they throw a party, give him his choice of the ones they keep here.”

“Fujiko?”

“I haven't seen her, but she fits that type. She's probably here somewhere.”

“The fifteenth. How?”

“By boat. A container ship.” She told him the name of it, when it would dock. How long they expected it to take to load up and get back out to sea.

“How many you think?”

“At least a hundred. Maybe more.”

“You've done what you came here to do. Let's get you out of here.”

“Daisuke, I can't.”

He didn't say anything. Just looked at her.

“I just found out,” she explained. “If I suddenly vanish, they'll know and change their plan. I have to stay. At least a little while longer.”

“Where's your sister?”

“I still don't know. I can't get him to tell me. And it's not from lack of trying.”

“I don't want to leave you here.”

“You have to. I'll be all right. I've made it this far. I can last a little while longer.”

He stepped closer, kissed her forehead, and she hugged him close. “I'll be back for you. Take care until then.”

“I will.”

She went into the hallway first, to check, but there was no one around. She walked him back to the library, locked the double doors behind him, gave a little wave when he swung a leg over the railing.

He nodded, started to climb down. He didn't rush, but he didn't linger either. Just made his way down, carefully, quietly.

When he set both feet on solid ground he heard the pistol being cocked behind him. In a split second he decided he would spin around, drop low, roll to the side, draw, come up shooting, but a voice stopped him cold. “You're covered. Don't try anything.”

“Chuck. Can't say it's a pleasure. And I thought you'd gone straight.” Jigen pressed the accent jewel in his tie clip, started the hidden recorder that would send audio to Lupin's phone. One thing about Lupin, he loved his gadgets. And Jigen admitted there were times when they came in handy. Like now.

“No, doesn't pay enough. And before you turn around, I'll take this.” Jigen felt him tugging the Magnum, lifting it away.

“Working for the wrong family aren't you?” Jigen said as he turned around slowly, with no sudden movements, his hands raised level with his shoulders.

“Well, well, if it isn't Jigen Daisuke. Thought that might be you. Still wearing that same old ugly hat, I see. If you must know, the perks are better working here. What are you up to sniffing around? And it's Charlie. She calls me Charlie.”

Jigen stiffened at the mention of her, but didn't say anything.

“Oh yes,” the corrupt officer taunted. “She calls me Charlie, and she loves it when I –”

“There a point to this, Chuck?”

“Just to give you a hard time. Let's go.” He waved in the direction they should walk, and Jigen felt the barrel jab his spine. “Boss will want to meet you. Impress the boss and you might live a little longer.”

Lupin was sprawled across the mattress, his mouth open, a little drool trailing down onto his pillow. He was sleeping pretty deep, but he had always been a light sleeper, and he was instantly awake when his phone beeped and Jigen's voice began to fill the room. He blinked a few times, listening, waiting.

< _There a point to this, Chuck?_ >

The thief sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, scratched his backside through his blue and white striped boxers as he yawned.

< _... you might live a little longer._ >

“Damn it, Jigen. I told you not to do anything stupid.”

Lupin stood, moved to the closet, started to get dressed, called for Goemon to do the same. There was an app that showed him the location of the car and he knew immediately where Jigen has gone.

“You'll blow the whole thing,” the thief said to himself, frowning as he listened.

“Ready,” Goemon called.

“Pops'll be happy to give us a ride, I'm sure,” Lupin guessed, as he finished the knot in his tie. “Let's go.” The phone kept broadcasting, and Lupin thought maybe a camera too would be a nice upgrade. Get a visual before they rushed in. He'd work on designing something later.

At the door to a large room Chuck preened a bit, wiped his face, fixed his hair, being sure to keep Jigen covered the entire time. He looked off balance, and Jigen pressed it. “Nervous there, Chuck?”

“Shut up.” He knocked tentatively, before pushing wide the half-way open the door.

 _How many libraries this place have?_ Jigen thought as he was escorted in at gunpoint.

“Boss, I found a trespasser.”

A well-dressed woman at a large desk looking over some kind of ledger didn't bother to raise her head. “I don't have time for trespassers. Just get rid of him.”

Chuck shoved Jigen roughly, so that the gunman stumbled a bit closer to the desk. Was this the boss? This little wisp of a thing? Where was the man he had expected to see? The ruthless, heartless, vicious don that was both revered and despised by those that knew, those that had seen what he was capable of. “You might want to make time for this one... ma'am.”

“What did I just –” she looked up, stopped mid-sentence. Then, puzzled, “You look familiar.”

She did too, Jigen noticed now. Her cheekbones, the way her hair fell in soft waves, and the eyes were the exact same color.

“Candace?” Jigen asked in his smooth baritone.

“Oh, you. I remember you. You're that shiftless gunslinger my sister was going to run off with.”

Was that true? He hadn't known. He hoped he didn't look surprised. He couldn't let them know she had ever meant anything to him. Then they'd have leverage.

“Oh, her? Never really cared for that slut.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for something to steal. Seemed like a good place for that...”

“You never cared for my sister?”

“She was just somebody to have fun with. Now, you, on the other hand...”

“Don't speak to her that way,” Chuck instructed, jamming his gun in Jigen's side to emphasize his point.

“No,” Candace said, as she stood up, came around the front of the desk, perched on the edge. She crossed her long legs, stared at Jigen. “Let him talk.”

“I might could better show you,” the gunman suggested, relaxing his stance a bit, putting both hands in his pockets, tilting his head up slightly so she could see his eyes under his hat brim.

“That's disrespectful,” Chuck started to complain.

“Charles,” she said his name with authority, using the same tone she would to scold a lapdog, and the cop just stared at her. His longing was plainly evident, even to Jigen who thought the information would be useful later. He filed it away, in case it should come in handy. “A little privacy please.” It was not a question; he was being dismissed.

His face fell, and he looked visibly disappointed. “But I...”

“You heard her, Chuck. Let the grownups talk in peace.”

Chuck turned to leave them, but she called him back. “Charles, you have something that belongs to our guest?”

“You shouldn't,” he advised.

“Return it to him.”

He hesitated, and Jigen wondered how this would play out and how it was that Candace wasn't in a hole somewhere waiting to be rescued, but instead running the whole outfit.

She glared at him, said sharply, “Now, Charles.”

The crooked law enforcement officer complied, grudgingly, and Jigen's mouth turned up in a little half-grin as he smoothly holstered his Magnum.

“Good,” she nodded. “Now, leave us.”

“And close the door on your way out,” Jigen added, and was rewarded with a fresh flare of anger showing on Chuck's face. But he did as he was told, left them there together alone, closed the door on his way out.

She stood and made her way over to him. Jigen stared at her, swallowed, and hoped she hadn't noticed.

She was glad he had come. He shouldn't have, but it had renewed her a bit. Given her strength to carry on. Reminded her why she was here in the first place. Just a little while longer. Eat, breathe, sleep, stay alive. These were her only concerns.

Although she was basically a prisoner, she did have run of the house, and she wandered downstairs, seeking something to satisfy the growling in her stomach.

She saw Charlie pacing at the bottom of the stairs. He looked pensive. She didn't recall ever seeing him that way before. Only angry, boisterous. Sometimes seductive. But not tense, looking worried like he was now. Something must have happened.

 _Jigen_. Her heart constricted.

“Charlie?”

“What are you doing down here? I told you to wait for me. Go back upstairs.”

She couldn't let him think she could be controlled quite that easily. She wasn't one of their products. She came down the stairs until she was on the floor next to him. “Did something happen?” She tried to appear curious, natural. Couldn't let him suspect she'd had a visitor.

“Nothing to worry your pretty head over. Now, go on back to the bedroom, wait for me there.”

She came a little closer. “Charlie?”

“Just do what I say, will you?”

She heard voices coming from the study. Familiar voices. She moved toward them.

< _I might could better show you..._ >

“What is he doing?” Goemon wondered.

“Who knows?” Lupin answered. “The man can't flirt to save his life.”

Zenigata's mouth turned down as he shifted his gaze to the thief and the samurai in the rearview. “Let's hope for his sake, Lupin, that you're wrong this time.”

From the passenger seat of the cruiser, Yata shushed them, trying to hear what Jigen was saying.

After Charles closed the door behind him, she turned her attention to the gunslinger. He was handsome, in a roguish sort of way. Might be worth something.

She put a hand on his shoulder, trailed it around him as she circled him, leering at his backside, doing calculations.

His skills or himself; she would profit from him somehow, she was sure.

“Don't mind him, you know what they say about good help. But he's not entirely useless so I keep him around. I am, however, in the market for a bodyguard. And I seem to recall you have experience in that arena?”

She was close enough he could smell her perfume. That same one he hated. It was like it was the only one available in this town. “What's it pay?”

“Enough. And there are perks...”

“Hmm...”

“What if you get a sign-on bonus?” she said, lifting his hat right off his head, and placing it on her own. Jigen remembered that her sister had done that on more than one occasion. He thrust that thought away from him, focused instead on the here and now.

_Tell her what she wants to hear so you don't end up dead._

She went to reach for his tie, and he stilled her hands with his own. “You sure, Candy?”

“I like that. Call me Candy from now on.”

“Because you're so sweet?”

“Want to taste?”

< _Because you're so sweet?_ >

“Ugh,” Lupin groaned. “That's awful. Remind me to teach him how to talk to women.”

< _Want to taste? >_

The other three men in the car remained silent, rapt, listening.

Pops pulled the cruiser over, parked next to the Fiat, waited.

Jigen nodded, removed his tie and its clip, put them in his suit coat pocket, slung it over a nearby chair.

This was not something he wanted to do right now, but it didn't seem like he had a lot of say in the matter.

She started kissing him, and he let her. Odd how it was different, yet familiar. He tried hard not to focus on that.

Jigen was a good kisser and knew exactly what was expected of him. He took a few steps forward until she was sitting on the edge of the desk again.

She fumbled behind her, found the ledger, tossed it into the desk chair. Jigen glanced it briefly, saw the name of the ship, docking around 11:30 pm on the fourteenth, leaving shortly after midnight. She had been right. This confirmed it.

Candace ran fingers through his hair, scratched his scalp roughly with her polished nails, before starting to undo his shirt buttons.

He couldn't just stand there and let it be done to him; he had to participate. He had to play the part. And if Candace's sister could do it, then so could he. He made his hands start to explore. Her shoulders first, then her arms, then elsewhere. He put a hand on her back, pulled her closer, parted her knees with one of his own, ground their hips together.

She moaned some, but it sounded unnatural to Jigen. This wasn't love, obviously. It wasn't even a one-night-stand. He didn't know what the hell it was supposed to be. It felt like a negotiation, or a confrontation. He kept at it, because right now she was holding all the cards. He could draw his Magnum and end it here, but then Chuck would be on him, and the whole plan and everything they'd done so far would be for nothing.

He hoped the recorder wasn't too far away. He hoped his hat wouldn't smell like her perfume when all this was over.

Charlie grabbed her arm in a grip tighter than necessary, warned, “Don't go in there.”

But she ignored him, jerked her arm free and burst through the door, then stopped, frozen on the threshold.

Candace laid back on the desk, pulled Jigen with her, his heart beating faster as he nuzzled his face into her neck, his shirt unbuttoned, but still on, his beard scraping her collarbone. She started to tug at his belt buckle. He began to hike her dress up around her hips, was going to say something lewd that could be interpreted as romantic, when the door swung open.

They both froze, and turned their heads in that direction.

“Charles! I told you to keep her busy,” she scolded, her hands on Jigen's bare chest. She could feel his heart racing under her palm, and he continued to breathe hard.

“I tried to stop her,” he whined.

“Damn it, Chuck! We're busy. Do you mind? Get her out of here,” Jigen snarled, secretly relieved at the interruption.

“Candace! What are you doing? What are you doing _here_? Are you all right? What happened? What's going on? … Jigen?” Her face pinched as she took in the situation. She wasn't sure what was going on, and she wasn't sure what to feel. Here was her sister – alive and well it seemed; she had been sick with worry over her, what she had been through – but here also was Daisuke, half undressed on top of her. “What's going on?” she said again.

< _I tried to stop her._ >

“What should we do?” Pops wanted to know. “Call for backup?”

“Just wait,” Lupin advised. “Let's just wait a bit, see how it plays out.”

Goemon and Yata exchanged a concerned glance before once more focusing their attention on the phone in Lupin's hand.

Candace put a hand to his cheek, purred, “Let me up, Sweet.”

Jigen didn't care for that pet name, but played along. “Sure, Candy.” His elbows ached from bearing his weight on the unyielding polished wood, and he thought if he had to do whatever that was supposed to be again, it wouldn't be on a desk. He grunted as he stood, started putting himself back together. Tried to control his breathing, fastened his belt again, buttoned his shirt. He hadn't gotten past that point of no return, which was extremely fortunate. Wasn't sure what he would have done otherwise.

“What are you doing here?” she cried, tears flowing from relief and – what was it? Envy? Was this how Daisuke felt when he found out? Was that what he had been trying to say?

“Isn't it obvious?” Candace asked, sitting up, swinging her legs around, adjusting the hem of her dress. “I'm in charge here.”

“How?”

“We were in the middle of something, if you hadn't noticed,” Jigen put in, just to show what side he wanted them to think he was on.

“Shut up!” both women hissed at once.

“Candy, can I at least have my hat back?”

“Here,” the new mafia boss said, handing it over. “I'll wear it later.” And she raked her eyes over Jigen in a way that made him uncomfortable, but he didn't let it show.

“How? How are you in charge here? Charlie told me you were taken.”

Candace was silent for a moment, her brow furrowing, anger plain in the line of her shoulders, the clench of her jaw. “I was,” she snapped, her eyes like sparks. “I was taken. And all because of you. You did this. Lay down with dogs, get up with fleas. I told you he was no good, I told you he would be trouble, but no, you knew so much better. And if you hadn't gotten involved with him, he never would have know about me. Do you even know what I've been through? What I survived? Actions have consequences, and not just for yourself, but others...”

Chuck knew she was talking about him. He was the no-good trouble. He was the one that had tipped off the handlers, set up her kidnapping. She knew he was responsible, but kept him around anyway. He wasn't sure why. He had regretted it of course, because Candace – she was something else, not a woman alive anything like her, even her sister paled in comparison – she deserved better. But he had quotas, and bad things happened when he didn't meet them. He had been just as shocked as anybody to find her calling the shots.

“How?” she said again, trying to put the pieces together. Not a conversation she was prepared for, especially dressed like this, especially with Jigen standing just a few feet away. She stole a glance at him, but he was looking at her sister as he adjusted his tie clip, shrugged back into his suit coat. He moved behind Candace, took the ledger from the chair,and sat down. He propped his feet up on the desk, acting like he owned the place. No one questioned him or stopped him, so he took the opportunity to scan the book, while still listening to the sisters bicker.

“It only took me a week to get to the top. That old boss, well, he shouldn't have done what he did. Not to me. And then fall asleep. And you know how these organized crime families are. Like wolves. All they know is blood and brutality. Take down the alpha, become the new one.”

“You killed him?” she asked, astonished.

Flatly, “He deserved it.”

Both Chuck and Jigen remained silent, let the women talk.

“If that's true and you are in charge, we can free everyone, end this madness.”

Candace laughed bitterly. “The world IS madness. You'll never stop it. Stuff like this will always happen to someone. I've been on both ends and I can tell you it's much better to be calling the shots than on the receiving end.”

She was shocked. Who was this woman before her? This couldn't be Candace. Where was the shy, soft spoken, quiet one she remembered? How could she casually discuss people's lives in terms of profit and usefulness.

And she had killed someone? Unfathomable. Candace was so terribly sensitive; she had cried watching baby sea turtles get eaten by gulls in that nature documentary they had seen as children. She had always given her a hard time over it saying birds had to eat too. It was one of their many inside jokes.

How was any of this happening? How could it be possible? “What happened to you?” she whispered.

Her face was hard as she lifted her chin, “Something no one can ever take back.”

“Just because you got hurt that's no reason to hurt others. Those people are innocent!”

“Innocent!” Candace quickly stood, fists clenched, seething. Jigen could almost feel the fury coming off her in waves. He didn't move. “You want to know who was innocent? I was innocent. I was a... I was saving it. For marriage. I'm ruined now. No one will want –”

“I want you,” Chuck interrupted.

She rolled her eyes, gave a dismissive wave, “Not now, Charles.” She pushed hair from her face, tucked it behind her ear. “It happened... so fast... I was walking to my car when they came. There were three of them, and I wasn't –” her voice broke and she stopped.

Jigen sat up a little, reached over for her hand. She started and stared at it. It was such a gentle, unexpected gesture, it brought hot tears to the surface that cascaded down her face. He wasn't even sure why he had done it. An impulse.

She squeezed the gunman's hand before continuing, “I wasn't strong enough. And then... well, you know the rest of it. Which brings us back to here and now.” She had tried not to think of it or even acknowledge it. She only considered it when the nightmares tore her from sleep, which happened more often than not. She had tried her best to ignore it, but it was right in front of her, staring her in the face now.

“You going to let it define you? Keep hurting others because it'll make you fell better?”

Candace let go of Jigen's hand, wiped her eyes. Her voice was frigid when she said, “I will do whatever the hell I damn well please. Since nothing matters any more, I can do whatever I want. And you watch the way you speak to me or you'll be in the same boat as the rest of them.” She turned to Charles, instructed, “Take her to her room. Make sure she stays there.” Then with a cruel smile, “Have some fun.” She reached behind her, stroked Jigen's beard. He forced himself to be still, let her do it. “I know I will.”

Chuck frowned. He wasn't in the mood to be a babysitter. And he didn't want to leave his Candace alone with that Jigen. But he knew his place and how to follow orders, so he grabbed her arm, slung her around so she was in front of him, made her walk back toward the door. When she looked back, he gave her hurt shoulder a rude shove, and when she winced, Jigen almost shot him right then and there.

She looked back at Jigen again, her eyes so full of confusion and pain it broke whatever was left of his heart. He tugged his hat brim down a fraction and regretted once more Lupin being right.

< _I know I will._ >

“Lupin?” Pops asked, sounding concerned.

“It's fine. If they were going to kill him, they would have already. Patience. Remember our endgame.”

“Are you getting all this?” Goemon asked Yata, who scribbled furiously in a tiny spiral notebook. He had been doing that since he and Zenigata had picked up the two outlaws, like they were some sort of ride-share service and not sworn officers of Interpol.

Yata only nodded, kept taking notes.

Jigen took his legs off the desk, put his feet on the floor. “So, Candy... you, uh... you want to finish... what we started?” He didn't, but he had to ask to make it look good.

“No; moment's gone.”

He almost sighed his relief, but he kept it to himself.

She was trembling. With anger, fear, helpless frustration.

“Hey,” he said, quietly.

She turned to look at him.

“Come here,” he held out a hand. She took it and he pulled her around the desk and into his lap. He propped the ledger up on his knee, leaned it against the edge of the desk.

She circled an arm around his neck, took his hat from him again, placed it on her head.

“Impressive operation you got here,” he began, trying to sound casual. “A container ship. That's smart.”

She said the name of the boat.

Yata wrote it down.

“Yes. They've used that one for a while. I'm still learning how everything works.”

“They probably only check certain containers...” Jigen mused.

“Only the ones we tell them to. It's a pretty tight operation. We have people everywhere, in all the right places, customs, law enforcement, everywhere... They've been doing this for decades apparently.”

“Shipping out soon, I see.”

“The fifteenth, yeah.”

“The money?”

“Already ours. Just need to make the delivery.”

“Smart way to do business, getting paid up front. How many, I wonder. A big business you, … uh... inherited?”

“One-hundred and fifty-seven this time around.”

“A random number.”

“We lost a few. It happens.” She said it like they were coffee mugs that got chipped in shipping and not real people whose blood was on her hands now.

That was everything Lupin needed to know. It would be up to him and Pops now. He touched his tie clip.

The phone beeped and stopped, went silent, then back to the home screen. They could listen back if they wanted, but there was no need. Yata had written everything down.

“What happened?” the young inspector asked.

“The battery?” Pops reasoned.

“No,” the thief answered.

“He cut off the transmission?” the samurai guessed.

“Looks like.” Lupin frowned.

“I wonder why...” Goemon said.

“Doesn't matter. Pops, got enough to go on?”

“More than enough. We'll be ready.”

Lupin thanked him for the ride, found his spare keys, and he and Goemon left in the Fiat, while Pops and Yata went back the way they had come in the cruiser. Of course, not a single one of them was happy to leave Jigen in the viper's nest he had crawled into, but Lupin convinced them the gunman would be fine. They had to get ready. There wasn't a lot of time.

Jigen wanted to be upset with Candace, for the position she had put him in, for making everything harder than it needed to be, for not just turning those people loose, but mostly, all he could summon was pity. He had been broken a few times himself. Nothing like what she had been through, but he knew what trauma could do to a person.

They sat quietly for a while, before he closed the ledger, laid it aside. When he left here, he would need to take it with him. Evidence. She took off his hat, tossed it on top of the book.

“You want to talk?”

“About?”

“It. What happened. To you.”

“Bodyguards shouldn't be so personal. Bodyguards should be seen and not heard. Bodyguards shouldn't ask such questions.”

“Thought I'd ask. In case you did.”

“I don't,” but her voice wavered.

“I'm no shrink,” he confessed. “But I am here.”

She shifted, laid her head on his shoulder. He thought the right thing to do in that moment would be to wrap his arms around her, maybe stroke her hair a little. “Just hold me. Keep me safe. I just want to feel safe again,” she cried.

“That's my job.”

It was some time later when she began, “It was awful...”

Jigen was stuck there. He couldn't leave now, it would tip their hand. He hired on as Candy's bodyguard, and bided his time. He lived there in the mansion; she gave him his own suite of rooms, but Candy usually wanted him close by, so he often slept on a couch or sprawled in a chair in her room.

He tried to avoid getting too close to her bed. If he could help it. But sometimes when she cried at night, he would sit on the edge of it, holding her hand, which eventually led to him laying down, pulling her close against his chest, murmuring soothing meaningless things about how it was ok, he was here, she was safe. No one would get past his fast draw. No one could hurt her now.

And disconcertingly, he felt himself falling. He could see it coming, knew it was happening, but couldn't do a blessed thing about it. She was so vulnerable. And he wanted to protect her. She was so much like her sister. But different. He tried not to compare them. He tried not to think about one or the other, but he realized 'out of sight, out of mind' didn't work on women. He tried to remember why he was there in the first place, why any of them were there. And what he would do stop it. When the time came. Lupin was better at plans and details, Jigen just shot himself out of a tight spot when he had to. He wasn't sure if that was going to work this time.

Mostly, living there was almost like being on vacation in some five-star resort. Fine wine, room service, company when he wanted it. He didn't, of course, but it gave him an excuse to see Fujiko. Candy allowed it, because it was part of his deal.

When she was brought to his rooms, Jigen told Fujiko to be ready.

“For what? When?”

“I don't know. Soon. Just be ready. Tell the others.” Then, after an awkward silence, he asked, “You holding up?”

“I've lived through worse.”

“Sorry you got involved.”

“Couldn't be helped. And it will be worth it.”

“That's the hope anyway.”

“Yeah.”

They passed the time playing cards until it had been long enough to look like something had happened, and Fujiko was taken back to wherever they kept her.

Just like a vacation almost, except for having to keep one eye on Chuck the whole time. Jealousy was a dangerous thing, and it was painfully obvious with each passing day, Candy preferred Jigen's company. Found excuses to send Chuck away. Gave him useless errands, or just told him to “Go, check up on _her_ for a while, give us some privacy.”

Jigen wasn't allowed to see her, and he had to act like that didn't bother him. That he wasn't constantly thinking of how to get her out of this place.

Candy gave him the run of the house. Asked what Jigen thought, took his advice over Chuck's. Jigen had experience. He knew how things should and should not be done. He did what he could to keep her from getting in over her head, crossing the wrong people. Tried to talk her into going back to her old life, before she got too deep and there was no turning back.

“I know a little about this,” he explained.

But she just said, “It's already too late for me.”

Candy liked having Jigen around. His presence was soothing, and his skills made him perfect for his new role. It had been a little over a week and even she could tell she was more relaxed with him around. Just having him in the room made her breathe a little easier. He was steadier than Charles. More confident. Direct. Had manners.

A man. Charles was just a boy.

“Oh, bodyguard,” she called one frigid afternoon.

“I told you. It's Jigen. Most folks just call me Jigen.”

Candy smiled a little, “Well, I'm waiting, Jigen.”

“Cold out here,” he complained, his arms crossed as he leaned against a gazebo railing.

“Not in here, it's not,” her voice lilted in a sing-song cadence. Steam rose all around her, as the jets churned the water of the hot tub.

“Not dressed for that,” he said dryly.

Her face pinched a little, and she said firmly, “Then get undressed.” Then she softened her face, tried to smile, “Sweet, I'm lonely in here all by myself.”

Jigen almost rolled his eyes, but caught himself. Best not to piss her off. She still held all the cards, and still had Chuck at her beck and call. The cop kept nosing around, giving Jigen a hard time, telling him things he had done to Candy's sister, things he would do, if Jigen laid a hand on Candy. Could put a bullet in his back at a moment's notice, should Candy give the nod. Not a situation Jigen wanted to be in.

Damn Lupin, always having to be right about freaking everything.

“All right, Candy. Whatever you say. Just give me a minute.”

He did it silently, shivering, as she watched him with what he could only describe as hungry eyes. He placed his Magnum on the tub's edge. He kept his boxers and his fedora, a combination that should have looked foolish, but it didn't, not on him, and he quickly climbed over the side, plunging into the warm embrace of the frothing water.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

He propped one foot up on the opposite knee and stretched his arms wide as he reclined against the side.

“Why so far away?” she teased from the other side.

“You can come over any time you want.”

She took his invitation, came to sit on his lap, laid a wet hand on his chest. He didn't stiffen like he might have a few days before. Instead he caught her hand, brought it up under his hat brim for a kiss.

She blushed a little, and he kept telling himself that he was undercover. None of this was real. He was playing a part to keep from getting killed.

But the way her same-colored eyes crinkled when she smiled reminded him and tugged at his heart. _The world was such a wretched place,_ he thought, _to have done such a thing to someone like her_.

“You know, boss...”

“Candy.”

“Right. Candy. You know, Candy, you've got a... an acquaintance of mine” – he was not going to use the word friend – “in your cellar.”

“Really? Who?”

“Fujiko Mine.”

“Oh, her. We call her Scarlet. She's unruly.”

“You change their names?”

“Yeah. Their old name reminds them too much of their old life. It's just another tactic in the game.”

“Unruly, yeah, sounds like her,” he forced a chuckle. “She'd be more use on this side of the operation.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Connections. She's knows people, can get you in, expand your dealings. Make you more profit.”

The water relaxed Jigen a bit. It was hot enough, not too much, just right. And it soothed the ache in his joints the cold has accentuated. Step one was to get Fujiko out. Then he'd try to work out a step two. He was making this up as he went along. He hoped he was making the right choices.

Candy was intrigued. “Can she be trusted?”

“Hell no.”

“Then why should I –”

“She can't be trusted, but she can be bought. And everyone has a price. Consider it an investment.”

“I'll think on it, but let's not talk about her anymore right now. Not when I have you undressed in the hot tub.” She shifted to straddle his lap, and he moved his leg to make room so his foot wasn't on his knee anymore. “Now, surely you can think of something else for us to discuss.”

“You're the boss, Candy.”

“I am. I am the boss. And don't you forget.”

“I won't.”

They stayed there until they were both shriveled and pruned, and then they stayed there a little longer. In between kissing him, Candy prattled on about her plans, how she was going to run this whole town soon with him by her side, and Jigen, half-listening mostly thought about the mad dash through the wintry air back to the house that he would have to make soon, not looking forward to it.

It took some doing, but Jigen was able to persuade Candy to release Fujiko into her service.

“Before you go to 'set up the meeting,'” Jigen said, “there's a book in the library on the first floor.”

Fujiko rolled her eyes. “Want to be more specific? A book in the library? Really?”

“It's about this big,” Jigen held out his hands so far apart. “Leather bound, some emblem on the cover. Looks sort of like a coat of arms. It's got all the details, shipping dates, how much 'cargo,' everything. Get it to Pops.”

“Will do.”

“And tell Lupin to put the car back where he found it. But not until the fourteenth.”

“Anything else?”

“Don't get caught.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Don't know yet. Something. And will need a way out quick.”

“I'll tell him.”

Jigen was skeptical that Fujiko would keep her word, but he had little choice but to trust her. “See that you do.”

“Why haven't we heard from Fujiko yet?” Candy asked one night as she and Jigen shared a meal.

“We will. We will. These things take time, that's all.”

“I thought we would have heard by now...”

“She'll come through.”

“She had better,” Candy said, frowning.

Jigen tugged his hat brim down a fraction, sipped his wine. Only a couple more days. He'd only have to be here a couple more days.

“Charles.”

“Yes, ma'am?” He had been passing the door of the study when she called to him. He looked around for the gunslinger but didn't see him. He didn't have a lot of time. Tonight the ship would dock, and he wanted to be there, see everything went off without a hitch.

“Charles, where's Jigen?”

“Haven't seen him.”

“I haven't either. Not for a while. Find him for me. Send him here. I want to spend time with him.”

Chuck gritted his teeth. She only ever wanted Jigen around. Ever since he had showed up. That's all anyone ever wanted. Chuck should have killed him a long time ago. The gunman had been a thorn in his side for years. He had had a good thing going with that other family, up until Jigen burst on the scene with his trick-shots and devil-may-care-don't-give-a-damn attitude. Chuck had been usurped, and a few mistakes later been turned out. He thought he'd go straight then, inform on the ones that had cut him loose, but there wasn't enough money in honest living. So he fell back into the life, only with a much worse family, doing much worse things, for a much more heartless boss. And here he was now, the woman he thought he loved – though admittedly his definition was considerably warped – asking him to bring her his rival. He'd had enough playing second fiddle to the clown in his suit and hat. Stupid, ugly hat. He'd get rid of him. And then when she mourned, he'd comfort her, and that would be his way back into her good graces.

“What are you looking for?” Chuck asked, watching her open and close the desk drawers one after another.

“I can't find the book. It was here. I'm sure I left it here.”

Fujiko gone. Jigen gone. The book gone.

“Where's your sister?” he asked, but was already turning, moving toward the stairs. He took them two at a time and was hardly winded when he made it to her room. The door was closed as usual, but when he tried the knob, it opened which was not. It should have been locked. 

“Hey, babe?” He looked around, but knew she was already gone. Run off with Jigen. Should have just shot him when he caught him climbing out the window.

He stalked back down the stairs, slowly, saw Candy at the bottom waiting for him.

“Charles?”

“Gone. They're gone.”

“What do you mean? Jigen wouldn't leave me...”

“Well, he did. And you're sister's gone too.”

“He wouldn't. He said... He wouldn't leave without telling me.”

“Look, I'm still here.”

“You aren't him.”

“What is it about him? I'm just as good as him. Better.”

“He's twice the man you are. And in more ways than one.”

She had provoked his outrage, and it blinded him. He back-handed Candy hard across the face, sent her reeling. When she regained her balance, she stared at him, mouth open in shock that he would do such a thing. To her. His boss.

She was suddenly very afraid. That same terror that had stricken her when 'it' had happened, the same that hurled her violently from sleep on a nightly basis, the same terror Jigen would talk away his voice low, whispering nonsense, shushing her as she cried against his chest. Chuck saw the fear in her eyes, frowned.

“All I ever did was love you...”

“If that was even remotely true I wouldn't be here now. None of this would have happened. You say you love me, but love would never do the things you've done. Love –” her words cut off as he reached out, quick as lightening, closed a hand around her throat. She pulled at his wrist, clawed at him with her nails, as he lifted her small frame off the floor, his grip tighening.

No. This was not the way she would die. Not after everything she had been through. Not after what she had already survived. She kicked out, made contact with his shin bone, and he dropped her. She crumpled to the floor, gasping.

Chuck checked his watch. He did not have time for this. He kicked her cruelly in the ribs, her cheek buried in the rough fibers of the rug at the bottom of the stairs. “Stay there. Until I get back. I'll deal with you after I've dealt with them. I'll be running this show come daybreak.”

He left her lying there, a scrunched-up ball of pain, and slammed the door on his way out.

“We'll see...” she gasped in the dark. “We'll just see about that, Charles.”

Jigen opened the door to the hideout, pulled her inside, closed it behind him. “Stay here,” he said.

“No. I've invested too much. My story. I've got to see this through.”

Jigen shook his head, went to his room, started gathering what he needed. Something with a long range. Good firepower. Ammunition. Plenty of it. Lupin was already down at the docks, and they would need his cover fire when things got ugly. There was no time. But Jigen did not want her in the middle of it. And he did not want to argue. She never listened anyway.

“Come here,” he said as he sat on the edge of his bed, patted the mattress beside him. It wasn't made up, but he hadn't been here in a while, and that was the least of his concern. She had seen an unmade bed before.

“What?” She came to sit next to him.

“What you did back there, going in and getting the info and everything, it was really brave. I'm impressed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah...” How was he going to do this? He leaned forward a bit, kissed her.

She was surprised, but pleased, and closed her eyes as she leaned into it. His chest pinned her against the head board, as he opened the nightstand drawer, fumbled around a bit. What was he doing? There was no time. And especially not for that.

The metal snapped around her wrist coldly, and she heard the other half of the cuffs snap closed as he clipped it to the bed frame. “What the –” She pulled her hand a few times, unbelieving, but she was stuck.

“Stay here,” he said again. “You'll be safe here.” He stood up, gathered his gun, its accessories, and left the hideout. He could hear her cursing him, hoped the neighbors wouldn't mind. But this was Lupin's apartment and it was usually loud. “I'll be back for you,” he called from the living room.

“Damn it, Daisuke! Turn me loose! I have to be there! Daisuke! Daisuke! Jigen! You bastard!”

She heard the door close behind him and knew he wouldn't be back. Not until it was all over.

She drew up her knees, wrapped her free arm around them, laid her head down.

But ten minutes later she heard the door open again. Maybe he had changed his mind. The hallway floorboard creaked a bit.

“Daisuke?”

The bedroom door opened slowly.

“I knew you'd come back for me,” she said looking up.

“And you were right.”

Her eyes widened as her blood ran cold. “Charlie?”

There was no moon, but Jigen had his night vision and was set. And there were some streetlights around, some security lights on the surrounding buildings.

He was on a warehouse roof surveying the – he would describe it as carnage – from a safe distance, laying down cover fire when it was needed, trying to keep up with what was happening.

It was chaos down there. The deck of that ship slick with blood. Lupin chattering in his ear about where he was and what Jigen should aim for next.

Goemon was down there too, slicing things left and right. The traffickers weapons, the traffickers, shipping containers. They weren't sure which ones held the people, so the samurai worked his way from bow to stern cutting everything in his path, sparks flying when Zantetsuken met metal.

Pops and Yata and their back up were there too, road blocks in place and police boats at a distance to catch any suspects that thought they might high-tail it out of Dodge.

Fujiko took no prisoners. Seemed she had something personal to settle with a few of them.

The gunfire slowed, petered out, eventually stopped. Jigen kept watch through his scope, waited for Lupin to tell him what to do next.

Didn't hear the door to the roof open behind him.

Charlie kept a tight grip on her upper arm. Tight enough she could almost feel it bruising in his hand. She was cuffed, hands behind her and he had slapped some duct tape over her mouth so she couldn't cry out and warn the gunslinger.

She had fought him every step of the way, and his face was bleeding from scratches, his nose half-flattened from her head butt.

She still had a little fight left in her, even after his punches, and she stomped on his in-step causing Charlie to yowl.

Jigen tossed his night vision goggles aside, rolled over, looked up from where he lay prone, like a sitting duck. Chuck. Damn. He shouldn't have left her alone. He should have kept her close so he could keep her safe.

“You wretch,” Chuck growled, burying a fist in her gut so that she sank to her knees. Her chin fell to her chest, but he yanked her hair, lifting her head. She stared at Jigen, tears streaming.

Jigen didn't move. Not yet. “Always knew you were worthless, Chuck.” _Get in his head, get him off balance._ “Hitting a woman. And one that can't even fight back.”

“You'll regret that.”

“You sure?”

“First, I'm going to kill her. While you watch. Then, I'm going to kill you for taking my place.”

“You had better be sure,” Jigen said quietly, watching them.

Charlie started to raise his arm to aim. She got a leg under her and pushed up and into him. Threw his aim off just enough.

Jigen rolled to the side, drew his Magnum, shot the pistol right out of Chuck's hand.

Then the gunman stood, holstering his weapon, as he rushed forward and lunged at the crooked cop. Chuck was ready for him though and got in a good swing or two.

“I'll beat you within an inch of your life,” Jigen said coldly, “for what you've done to her. To her and Candace and all the rest of them.”

Chuck swung at him again, but Jigen ducked and returned a strong uppercut to the man's jaw. Heard something crunch, probably a tooth breaking.

They moved closer to the edge of the roof, both dodging and delivering blows while she watched. Unable to do anything but watch.

She watched Charlie back Jigen toward the edge. It was a long way down. He surged forward, but Jigen was ready, anticipated that type of reckless rush, and moved aside just in time, at the very last second. Charlie reached out desperately, for anything, caught Jigen's neck tie.

Her heart almost stopped, sure they would both go over, but Jigen braced himself, felt the tie come loose, watched as Chuck's face bloomed with terror and realization as the clip-on came away in his hand and he plunged downward.

Jigen, breathing hard, looked over the edge, saw Chuck's body sprawled in a dumpster below. He stood there a moment, trying to still his heart, his ragged breath.

He came over to wear she sat, helped her up, took off the tape with swift efficency.

“Since when do you wear a clip-on?”

He laughed, relief flooding through him now that it was over. Everything they had been through, all that just happened, and that was the question she asked. “Since that time in the car. Before, when I drove you to meet him... I, uh, had reasons.” He turned from her, started packing up his things. “Pops will have a key for those I'm sure.” He slung his rifle over his shoulder. “Let's get you taken care of.” He took her elbow, gently. “Careful, on the stairs here.”

Pops was busy rounding up strays, helping coordinate the processing of the survivors, but Lupin picked the locks in few seconds. He left Jigen there alone with her on the dock, went to put Jigen's guns in the car, to find Fujiko.

“I'm sorry,” she started.

“Me too. I shouldn't have left you alone...”

“You couldn't have known.”

He lit a cigarette, handed it to her, lit one for himself. He took a long drag and looked at her. Thought about what she had meant to him once upon time, what she meant to him now, how different things might have turned out. But there was no going back.

“I'LL KILL YOU BOTH!!!”

They turned, saw Chuck stalking toward them.

Instinct took over. Jigen shoved her aside, reached for his gun, heard a shot ring out, followed quickly by another, before he even had his gun clear.

The bullet clipped Jigen's shoulder, just a graze. He had been shot enough times to know it wasn't serious. He raised his weapon, but didn't use it. There was no need. He saw Chuck stagger a step or two, then pitch forward, his life leaking out of him and pooling underneath.

“You ok, Sweet?”

“Candace?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, sure. Will be fine.” He holstered his Magnum, pressed a handkerchief to his sleeve. His suit was ruined, but he had others.

The danger past, Candace dropped the gun, and just stood there numb and broken.

Suddenly his gang was there around him squawking like hens, asking what had happened, was he all right, and all that. Kind of nice, to know they cared, whether or not he was going to pull through.

“Who is this?” Pops's voice behind them all. He had heard the shots, come to tie up any loose ends.

“Koichi, this is my sister Candace,” she said.

“Hmm, yes. I can see the resemblance.”

They all waited. Jigen just holding his shoulder and bleeding.

Candy may have started as a victim, but she had taken over the entire operation. She was as guilty as the ones who had taken her.

Candace waited, hugging herself, staring at the ground, sure she was about to be arrested, sure that her life was over. If that was even still possible.

“She's another victim. Candace was kidnapped too,” she explained, looking him the eye.

Candace looked up at her sister, puzzled, but didn't say anything.

“That so?” the inspector asked.

Candace nodded silently.

Fujiko was there too and confirmed it. “Yes. She was there. In the house with me, with the rest of them. They still need rescuing.”

“They're safe now. We raided that place too.” Zenigata turned to Candace. Did not leer, or look at her with disgust. But instead with his large gentle eyes, with their ridiculous lashes. “I'm very sorry this happened to you.” She nodded again. “We have medics here; can we have them make sure you are ok? And then, if you're able, we'd like to ask you some questions?”

She nodded again. “My ribs, they might be broken, I don't know... It hurts to breathe.”

“We'll take care of you,” Pops assured her calmly. He turned to Jigen, “I'll send someone over to take a look at that too.”

“Thanks, Pops.”

The inspector nodded, and led Candace over to where the other survivors were being processed, looked over, cared for, fed.

A short while later, Jigen found himself seated on a curb under a streetlight, as an EMT half his age patched him up. He shivered a bit, half out of his suit coat and dress shirt both stiff with his blood.

“You were lucky.”

“Yeah.”

“Keep an eye on it. See your doctor if it starts to look infected.”

“Oh, sure, sure.” Jigen laughed a little to himself. Like he had a primary care physician. On this continent or any other. The medic left him sitting there alone. He pulled his suit coat around his hurt shoulder, but didn't put his arm back in the sleeve. It had been hard enough getting it out earlier. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, as she came to sit beside him on the curb, leaned against his good arm.

“Hey.”

“I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For all the trouble. For dragging you into this. And...”

“And...”

“And for before. I'm sorry. Never really understood what you meant, until I saw you with Candace.”

Jigen tugged his hat brim down a fraction, pulled out another cigarette, lit it. “How is she?”

“A couple cracked ribs they think. She's fine. We'll get it x-rayed, to be sure, but she'll be ok.”

“I meant other than physically, how is she?”

“We'll be ok. She's like me. Tough. We'll survive.”

He nodded, puffed in silence a while. “You know, if you're ever in trouble... – and knowing you it's a distinct possibility – … well, you could... if you need to call somebody... you could call me...”

She smiled softly, hugged his arm. She may have loved every man that crossed her path, but this one, this one held a special place. “I hope I won't,” she said gently.

He didn't say anything, just blew smoke to the side, away from her face.

“But, Daisuke, it's nice to know I have the option.”

“Invitation's open.”

“I'll remember.”

The Fiat pulled up, empty, except for Lupin in the driver's seat. He rolled down the window. “Jigen,” he waved.

“Got to go,” the gunman said, standing slowly, his knee popping. It was cold and he was sore and tired and his eye was about swollen shut. He was hungry and just wanted a drink.

“I'll miss you.”

He laughed a little. “Don't start that again... But, yeah, same,” he told her and meant it. “Take care of Candace. And take care of yourself,” he said as he folded himself into the front seat of the car.

“Do the same. Please. I'll worry.”

“Don't worry. Not about me. I'll be fine. Maybe we'll cross paths again.”

“I'd like that.”

“Jigen, we've got to go while Pops is distracted, and before he changes his mind,” Lupin urged.

“You're the boss.” Jigen closed the door, gave a little wave as Lupin drove away. Jigen watched her in the rearview, the red and blue lights of the police vehicles swirling around her. A fitting image, he thought, her standing tall and proud in the center of such chaos. She stood there watching the little yellow car until it was out of sight.

Jigen was silent, just staring out the window, his shoulder and his face aching, his mind heavy, his heart burdened.

And as usual, Lupin couldn't leave well enough alone. Couldn't be quiet for more that a few consecutive seconds. Jigen thought Lupin was convinced that if he didn't talk he might explode, and he was not taking any chances. Normally it wouldn't matter, but Jigen was not in the mood to talk.

“You ok?”

“Shoulder hurts. Face hurts. Knee hurts.”

“That's not what I meant,” the thief pouted.

“That's how I took it.”

“Stubborn.”

“Nosy.”

“Jigen.”

He grunted.

“It's ok,” Lupin said. “It's ok to feel things, and be a little bent out of shape over it. It's a huge mess. You've been through a lot.”

Jigen didn't answer, just stubbed out his cigarette.

“I know you cared for her,” Lupin continued.

“Which one?” Jigen asked with a little smirk. And for once in his life, Lupin was at a loss for what to say.

_Epilogue:_ _A year or so later..._

Jigen was poolside in some South American country enjoying a well-earned respite from his frantic globe-trotting lifestyle.

He had warm sunshine, an ocean view, good whiskey, and for once, quiet. Lupin and Fujiko were who knew where, but off somewhere together and leaving him alone – thank goodness for that. And Goemon had gone back to his mountain to train for a while. The samurai had extended an invitation of course, but it was too cold on that mountain this time of year, so Jigen had opted for the beach.

He unfolded the newspaper he had bought at the airport a continent away but had not had a chance to read yet. He had slept on the plane, then Lupin wouldn't shut up, and there just hadn't been time.

He had time now.

He opened it, did a double take when he laid eyes on their photo. She and Candace were pictured together, receiving some award, in front of an applauding crowd. He read the caption and the attached article.

They had started a foundation – to help prevent trafficking, rescue people from it, provide support to the survivors. Telling their story – Candace telling hers – had saved the lives of others. They had written a book together. Well, she had written Candace's story. A biography of sorts. He'd have to read it. He wondered how much he would feature in the story. Maybe they wrote him out of it. Maybe that would be for the best.

They both looked healthy in the photo, happy even. He was glad to see it.

Trouble those two had been. He had the scar to prove it. But every life held some form of hardship. Not a single soul had no burdens to carry. And at least she had made it fun.

He sipped his drink and thought about her and her sister, and hoped that maybe, some day, he'd see one or the other again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments welcome!


End file.
